


Peerless Princess of Divine Grace (and strip poker)

by Bhelryss



Series: fe8week2016 [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Gen, day six: sacred, l'arachel has a gambling addiction and joshua has much to answer for, originally this was going to be kinky sex in church but i am incredibly incapable of that, so please enjoy our fave holy heroes sinning in a much less nsfw way instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bhelryss/pseuds/Bhelryss
Summary: “DO YOU HOLD NOTHING SACRED??”“I am the princess of peerless divinity,” L’Arachel protests, quickly gaining her feet and posing as she might if she were astride her horse, holding her staff. As it is, she merely brandishes an outstretched pointer finger, as though that might be as intimidating as a heavy mend stave. “Everything I do is sacred!”





	

The sun is still rising through the sky, but morning services have long since been completed. From the entrance to the sanctuary, the room looked empty. The sun slanting through the stained glass windows and painting the hardwood pews different colors. Peaceful, beautiful, with a certain feeling unique to quiet sanctuaries. 

“Shit,” came Rennac’s aggravated voice, loud enough to disturb the quiet. The hush immediately afterward was only a pause. “How do you keep doing that.”

“The divine light shines upon me, Rennac! I shall never lose to those who rely only upon luck!” L’Arachel insists, sitting primly on the cold floor with her legs tucked up underneath her. She has not even a hair out of place, while Rennac looks incredibly, incredibly disgruntled. “And stop swearing, it’s uncouth to speak so in front of a lady.” 

Rennac grimaces, and removes his socks. Dozla laughs uproariously into his cup of suspiciously strong smelling drink. The noise echoes against the walls, and all three of them hush up for a heavy moment. They wait, half anticipating the steps of the resident pastor and half fearing the inevitable discovery. Silence reigns and after several minutes the three of them relax.

“Roll again, Princess L’Arachel!” Dozla insists, eying his own hand of cards. He’s already lost his boots and his socks, and his shoulder armor, and he takes another hearty sip of his flask and smiles fondly at his two compatriots. Rennac frowns at him, and L’Arachel rolls three sixes. 

“I win again!” She crows, looking much like a cat who has gotten into the cream. She looks at Rennac with a softer smile that reeks to Rennac of Bad Things. “You will find, Rennac, that as a Peerless Princess of Divine Grace I will not lose at something so base as gambling. You may forfeit the round and remove your shoulder guard, you will not best my roll.” 

“You’re enjoying this too much,” Rennac accuses, and L’Arachel  _ graces _ him with a pointed look. 

“Gambling is of course a cardinal sin,” she says, “I am merely teaching you a lesson, Rennac. I don’t enjoy this!” It is clearly a lie, the light in her eyes and the mere fact that this is the fifth such meeting in the quiet empty halls of a church. Rennac thinks bitterly that Joshua has much to answer for.

“Excuse me!!” They all freeze, and Dozla chokes loudly on his drink. “Excuse me, I’m sorry to interrupt but what are you doing in here- are you  _ gambling _ ????” The priest who makes his way through the pews sounds scandalized. The pile of discarded clothing and the gold sitting in the middle of their huddle is damning. “In a church!!??” The poor man’s voice increases in pitch and volume. 

“Oh  _ shit _ ,” Rennac whispers, the swear heartfelt and the preface breathy. Dozla’s eyes are comically large. 

“DO YOU HOLD NOTHING SACRED??”

“I am the princess of peerless divinity,” L’Arachel protests, quickly gaining her feet and posing as she might if she were astride her horse, holding her staff. As it is, she merely brandishes an outstretched pointer finger, as though that might be as intimidating as a heavy mend stave. “Everything I do is sacred!” 

“In a church!!” The priest protests again, wailing this time. Other staff members are beginning to trickle into the sanctuary to ogle the spectacle, and Dozla and Rennac both begin shoving their clothes back on. “Gambling!! Father Marcus, these degenerates are desecrating the holy halls of our establishment!!”

L’Arachel opens her mouth to refute the very accusation, a fire in her eyes and a stiffness to her shoulders indicative of her refusal to back down, and Rennac scoops her up and books it. Dozla not far behind. “DEGENERATES!!” comes the pointed wail. 

“Rennac, put me down!”

“Maybe later,” Rennac mutters, as Dozla guffaws behind him. He feels like the only adult with sense, sometimes. Much, much later. When L’Arachel couldn’t get into a verbal fight with a bunch of clergymen over her gambling addiction. 

Gods, he and Dozla had to learn to stop indulging her.


End file.
